My Frend The Dimon King
by jarofclay42
Summary: [AkaKuro, Demon!AU] Akashi was no stranger to the crucial importance of foresight. But no one could have expected his own choices to turn on him this badly. Or alternatively, the story of how the great Demon King was reduced to be a child's playmate.
1. First Summoning

**For Bondmaiden bc of her glorious bday.**

**This is meant to be an episodic fic. Next chapters might or might not ever come, but that's ok bc each chapter is complete in itself.**

**Warnings: everyone wears horns and cool yukata. The abyss is a great place to chill until you live in it for centuries then it's just boring. **

**I usually like to explain things in the fics itself but for the sake of my sanity, I'll just put it here as a general important plot concept:**  
**Bargaining spells: you call up a demon making yourself obliged to pay them something for the service they'll give you. If you don't accept, the demon disappears, and that's it. It's a pretty safe thing, sort of.**  
**Summoning spells: you call up a demon to serve you with no mandatory payment needed, as long as you do have the power to keep him under your control. If your power is too weak, the demon might break the bindings and kill you (if they feel like it). Which is why demon summoners want to be good at summoning spells far more than at bargaining ones. No one wants to pay a price. Free is better.**

**More things about demons will come up in later chapters.**

* * *

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For all the bad reputation the Abyss had collected below and above the Earth in millennia of existing, it wasn't such a loathsome place to live in—provided that a demon held sufficient power, of course. A basic rule that didn't change between reality planes: power remained a vital requirement for survival, and the only mean that could turn the most wretched and unwelcoming place into an acceptable residence.

As a matter of fact, Akashi had always enjoyed an innate abundance of power. Becoming the Demon King had ultimately filled all the lacks he might have suffered from in earlier stages, but even long before that, survival and control had come naturally to him. Many demons spent centuries of their lives feeling lost and threatened in the dangerous, multifaceted obscurity of the Abyss. Those were emotions Akashi had rarely experienced.

Well, there might have been a time in which he had—an itch in his hardened heart reminded him of that, whenever he stared for too long at the lower levels of the underworld where all demons crawled out of, akin to the dull throbbing of an old broken bone still aching when strained—but demons were all well acquainted with that one memory nagging in the back of their skulls, for some paler than for others; it was hardly a parameter to judge a demon's worth. On the contrary, that memory was what prompted demons to pursue more power. Some managed, and became worthy of respect, and others didn't. Akashi had done an excellent job, of course, and now he stood at a place where never ending up at those levels was an absolute guarantee.

He deserved at least as much, considering what it had taken to gain said power and the role of the Demon King: the time, the acuity, the outstanding resources, and most of all the unpleasant social groups he had to affiliate with to create a sturdy safety net of alliances and supporters.

To be completely honest, though, being the Demon King hadn't always been in Akashi's plans. He was fond of being listened to, and in the Abyss that meant being strong enough to convince others to listen; but ruling wasn't a must, and as long as no relevant conflict of interest between the ruler and Akashi existed, Akashi would have gladly continued on his way. He had been fairly sure he _could _have defeated the Demon King, anyway.

But for many demons who were past the constant fear of not surviving to see the next day, one of the biggest curses of the Abyss was boredom. The Abyss, being the kind of world it was, bestowed upon this sentiment bleaker consequences than it had in the human world: boredom led to unwise choices or laxity, and both of those could easily result in suffering or death in the short run—but for some who could hardly conceive any chance of death by the hand of any low life demon, simply more boredom.

Akashi would know that.

Around the time he still hadn't decided on his glorious path, Akashi had had many people who had properly feared him already, but few who had stuck with him in his constant moving about. Of course, it had all been powerful demons, in one way or another, and they had offered some low quality company and relief from boredom. So when they had joined Akashi, he had let them follow him. Which is how Akashi found himself in the circumstances of contemplating the possibility of ruling.

"Ugh, let's do something. Kick some asses," Nebuya had said one day while inspecting the bulginess of his biceps. Nebuya was one of those individuals whose boredom, despite all the remarkable strength, would have long brought them to death, hadn't it been for Akashi. Too brash and short-sighted; but under Akashi's orders, he had proven himself undeniably useful, and Akashi never turned his back on useful pawns. But apparently for Nebuya, the clan of demons they had been feeding on that day had been one too easy to crush too many. "I've heard the Demon King is in a bad place right now."

"Are you crazy," Hayama, always the ferally louder one, had laughed out at the mere idea.

"That's a bit of a stretch maybe," Mibuchi, more controlled, had said with a disapproving sigh.

On his part, faithful to his apathy towards most things thrown at him, Mayuzumi had only given a pointedly dead look at Nebuya.

"That is an interesting proposal," Akashi had commented pensively, and in a matter of seconds he had carefully weighted the pros and cons, and had decided: it had been one clan of demons too easy to crush too many. He was going to become the Demon King. "We shall do that."

"Ah," Hayama and Mibuchi had voiced in unison.

Mayuzumi had only shifted his pointedly dead look on Akashi. That hadn't been enough to stray Akashi from his new objective. Not that Akashi could be utterly certain straying him from it had even been the purpose of Mayuzumi's unexpressive eyes. Not that if it had, it would have mattered.

So that had been it.

.

Predictably, he had succeeded.

The Abyss, the horns of a Demon King and the right to rule had all been a pleasant conquest, but what Akashi had adamantly chased after was, as said, a different kind of privilege.

It was a common opinion that the amount of perks that the Demon King's position offered widely made up for the number of duties that accompanied the role. For Akashi, duties themselves fell under the category of perks. For these reasons, the prospect of subjecting an entire world of demonic warmongers had sounded appealing from the moment it was conceived. Entertainment was what he had been looking for, and so he had climbed to the top.

Now that he was a Demon King, Akashi could bitterly state that not even being the busiest, most requested demon of the Abyss fully freed him of the dullness and the repetitiveness. Killing, eating demons, preventing weak attempts at overthrowing his dictatorship could only tickle his attention so much.

"This is pathetic," Akashi had lamented at the third uncreative attempt at eliminating him, "How can they be so unorganized?"

"It's because you're too chill about this," Hayama had unhelpfully explained.

"Elaborate," Akashi had commanded.

Hayama had shrugged as he searched for words. "About being a demon. The thing is that you're pretty great as a ruler, so the majority of the clever ones know to leave you alone. Which means that the ones who actually bother attacking you do it pushed by lame reasons."

"And those reasons would be that I'm too 'chill'?" Killing somebody because they're 'too chill' sounded to him like a depreciable reason to attempt a coup. Maybe this was truly why most of them failed before even starting.

Hayama had then tried to encapsulate a broad, verbally inexplicable concept in some vague flailing of hands. Akashi had not been satisfied, and had made sure that his eyes conveyed that to Hayama. So Hayama had continued, "Yeah like. You go about everything like a cold statue. It irks them off and they just run at you stupidly. You don't act like the usual demons. You kinda act like you're superior to everyone."

"But I am superior," Akashi had logically stated.

"Gotta love Sei-chan," Mibuchi had interrupted with a sisterly smile. "Don't worry, Sei-chan, it's nothing of the sort. It's just that you're too cute. Envy is a terrible thing. You have no idea of all the trouble I went in simply for my face." He had paused. "Well, I also _escaped _a lot of trouble because of my face."

In search of truths, Akashi had stood up and walked back into the hall where Nebuya and Mayuzumi had been about to eliminate a handful of guilty demons.

"State the reasons of your insurrection," he had demanded.

"You're too chill," the rebels' boss had said, in a clear attempt to be defiant to the very end of his existence. "And too haughty. It's so annoying it makes me want to give you a lesson."

Behind him Mibuchi, who had followed to hear, had put a hand on his shoulder, eyebrows bent in a desolate curve. "Don't be sad, Sei-chan. There has to be someone very envious of your cuteness, out there."

The boss hadn't stopped, as his veins had grown thicker. "You act like some god descended here to bring order on filthy demons. But you're no god, _Demon_ King. You crawled out of the same dirty hole we all come from, didn't you."

Akashi had killed him quickly to award him for the honesty. But still in a very painful way for the shallowness of his reasoning.

.

So yes, really interesting things happened rarely, even at the top. Nonetheless, there were a few side perks that Akashi had taken into account even when entertainment had been his priority, that made life nicer than before.

The problem of the Abyss was that it was built as a prison, and like all prisons, was hard to escape. Aside from few exceptions, such as himself, demons couldn't get out of the Abyss on their will. It was a matter of balance between reality planes, good and evil, humans and demons, as well as the fact that the Abyss was born to be a place for punishment. There would be no point in letting the damned roam out freely in the light of the Earth, devouring innocent souls with no dam to limit the range of their mayhem. Only the most powerful demons could, with some effort, move between planes on their own volition; for the average ones, however, the only way out was through human summoning.

Mighty otherworldly demons having to rely upon creatures as weak as humans to get out of their prison and collect souls, power, or whatever it was they were after: Akashi had always detachedly appreciated the fine cruelty of such retaliation. The Abyss founded its bases on many of those, and Akashi was never below acknowledging a system well structured, even if that was the very same system holding him captive—then again, it helped the fact that Akashi never really saw himself as a captive, always managing to rise above his and everyone else's limits.

Nonetheless, there had been days, back when he was still climbing to power, when even he had to abide to the humiliation of serving humans. He had to answer generic bargaining spells' calls to put his hands on dark souls to eat. He had to go through sudden changes of scenery by a powerful summoning spell impossible to break and help humans achieve what they desired but gaining nothing in exchange.

Of course, bargaining spells usually offered empowering souls, and summoning spells were always a good exercise for demons to train their ability to break the chains of the magic—if humans wanted to pay nothing for a demon's services, they had to risk higher. But for Akashi it had always been the principle behind it all that irked him deeply. Humans trying to bend him to their greedy wills spoken as if they were invincible because of a mere spell: how unacceptable that was. So when it was barganing spells, collecting the humans' souls had always been the most satisfactory part—not because of the power that surged within him when he fed, but because it was only right that ultimately those creatures were punished for their arrogance. When it was summoning spells, on the other hand… well, Akashi had taken counter measures against that.

After forging a reputation to his name, humans had started summoning him specifically and Akashi had never fancied being interrupted in the middle of his activities only to be forced to meet with a haughty corrupted face spouting orders. Nor had he ever taken as much advantage of that as Hayama did whenever he intercepted a summoning spell calling him away when he wanted to escape his duties.

Once Akashi had become Demon King, he was faced with a decision to make: indulge the humans' calls in the hope of interesting times in their presence; or greatly weaken the frequency of summonings for the sake of absolute control.

Frankly, the decision hadn't been hard, and so, what had followed that had been an extensive research on the functioning of demons.

All demons were provided with a demonic core, within them. In the Abyss, the rules that governed it weren't written in books, but in the very blood of each demon, in their 'core', buried deep into the dark miasma that made demons the creatures they were. Being able to connect with that core—allegedly an impossible feat—would mean a chance to meddle around with the rules that bound a demon.

Confident in the new powers gained with his position, Akashi had given it a try. It had been time-consuming and fatiguing, but in the end Akashi had managed to twist some things around his fingers: he had found the source of his powers and rules to which they answered, and rewritten his own to new ones—within the limits that were conceded, of course. There were some things that not even Akashi the Demon King could manage, against the safety system of the Abyss.

"That was a very long nap," Mayuzumi had greeted him back when he had opened his eyes again. Mayuzumi was another of his subjects that was best left ignored most of the time. His set of valuable skills was the main reason he hadn't been killed by Akashi's own hands already.

"I wasn't 'napping'," Akashi had informed him against his own lack of hope towards Mayuzumi's case, for the sake of educating lesser demons of his incredible success. "I was connecting to the core of my demonic being. I made the impossible possible through the sheer power of my mind. I revolutionized the very essence of being a demon."

"Fascinating," Mayuzumi had shrugged. "You might have not noticed that somebody tried to kill you while you were napping."

As Akashi was still alive and could successfully perform his personal quest without being bothered, he surmised that his underlings had taken care of that very efficiently. Because of that, Akashi had overlooked Mayuzumi's insolence.

The rules residing within him now stated that to bind the current Demon King, the summoner had to possess the purest of souls. Of course, Akashi had spread no word about the new changes. To his delight, what had naturally spread among humans after that, were only the consequences of more and more summoners daring and dying at his hands: rumors of a current Demon King so strong that no bargaining spell could force him to Earth, no summoning spell could reign him in. It was a blessing but also the greatest danger for sorcerers if he ever decided to show up at the summoning call. If you call the Demon King, people all over said, make sure you have an interesting proposal for him.

Slowly, the calls had subdued. The entertainment lessened. But humans who kept trying in the hopes of proving themselves able to turn the tides and conquer the benevolence of the Demon King, offered enough recreational moments. With that, Akashi had been finally freed from the hassle that were humans.

.

.

.

It was in the light of all this that, as he was cleaning his hands from the smears of the demonic miasma belonging to his last duty, Akashi understandably felt a mild sense of surprise he hadn't experienced in a very long time, when he perceived a rough pull to his core that he could not refuse.

Mayuzumi, scanning the list of obligations to attend, raised his head at the poised interjection that had escaped Akashi's lips and, despite the obvious irregularity of the situation, offered no more than a frown and a perplexed "My Lord," at the figure of his boss slowly fading into nothingness.

Akashi sighed, unable to prevent this interruption. He pulled down the sleeves of the haori over his forearms. "Wait for me here. I'll be done very shortly."

Exactly because these circumstances came mostly unexpected, they strongly suggested potential danger. Akashi considered for a short moment bringing Mayuzumi along, but then decided against it. He was the Demon King. He was confident that whatever was summoning him above that had somehow managed to work around the limitative rules, could be easily taken care of in the span of a few minutes, were that to be his wish.

All things considered, the distraction did come well-timed. He had been feeling quite bored with the last days' schedule.

"Let the next one enter," he ordered.

Mayuzumi nodded, checking something off his list; but just as Akashi was about to disappear completely, he caught Mayuzumi's hand surreptitiously slipping in the long sleeve of his black yukata, heavy with the weight of a book.

"Mayuzumi—" Akashi said warningly, but he never got to finish the sentence.

.

The room he materialized in coincided with the very least probable of all the explanations that he had hypothesized on the threshold of his departure.

It was all incredibly different from the locations he was used to being summoned to. The change, however, despite having its anticlimactic flaws, was not overly unpleasant.

The air was filled only with the sinister hissing raising from the surface of water used for the summoning, and a muffled, indiscernible noise coming from behind a closed door—something already very different, as usually there was at least one person chanting boring litanies before he could appear completely.

It was a small bedroom, white and fresh like only places with a short history could be. Outside the window framed by blue lace curtains, the wide crowns of trees swayed in a warm sunlight that would have made Mibuchi ditch the summoner in favor of a light suntan, or even persuade them of the advantages of joining him. Nebuya, on the other hand, would have felt nauseous at the plethora of hideously cute stuffed toys sprinkling the blankets of the bed. A small desk was nestled in the corner, a crooked lamp and a set of pens and notebooks lying on it, neatly disposed, and Akashi was reminded of Mayuzumi's monthly complaints about the lack of paper and stationery in the Abyss—something to which for once, Akashi had to agree. He made a mental note about those before he finally looked down.

"A child," he commented.

"Good afternoon," the child greeted back politely, thus answering the first of Akashi's questions. The presence of a big open tome at the child's knees and the blatant absence of potential abductors answered the second.

The completion of the calling could safely be attributed to the child being nothing but a child. It was known that childhood was the stage of a human life when souls were most likely to retain the greatest levels of pureness, before inevitably falling victim to aging and rotting from vices and corruption. And while Akashi hadn't enough faith in all human children being pure enough to summon him, one look at his surroundings told him this one child lived a life where it could afford being so.

Akashi was relieved to ascertain that no one had found his secret out and started abducting children all over to bind him successfully. But on the other hand, it was ironic to think that if he hadn't changed the rules, the child's call would not have reached any demon's ears. Kids, after all, were naturally not well-versed in black magic. It was less ironic to imagine what his underlings would say about this if they learnt of it. Thankfully they would _not_, as Akashi had no intention to disclose any detail about this incident to a public larger than himself.

The situation was clear enough, but there were still some grey aspects to it that made Akashi curious.

The tiny creature, dressed in proper well-ironed clothes that clashed with the medical gauze covering its cheek, wasn't paying him attention anymore, concentrated on cautiously taping a colorful band-aid to its fingertip, cut to pay the price of blood required by the ritual.

So Akashi took his time to pull his feet out of the still fuming layer of water inside the bright pink bucket he had been summoned in. As he moved it out of the way with a foot, he noticed a thick series of flower stickers attached all under the rim.

When he looked down again, the child was staring at him discreetly, but its wide blue eyes kept flickering from his face to his horns with a spark of awe. For many demons, horns were a reason of pride; reverence at their majestic sight would be rewarded with lenience. But Akashi didn't praise any look that was not directed either up to his face or down to his feet.

"It is impolite to stare," he chided.

Obeying the implied order, the creature's stare dropped to Akashi's eyes. "I apologize."

"It is also unbecoming of a young sorcerer to summon demons using a bucket such as this one. I am not overly fond of the value of aesthetics, but most demons might have found this too discourteous for their tastes. A more sober bucket is highly suggested."

"I only had that one…" The child glanced dismally at its resources, then at Akashi again. "You don't look angry."

With an appraising nod, Akashi knelt down in front of the child, mirroring its composed stance. "I am not most demons."

He assessed the kid, raising his chin higher. The creature stayed silent, submitting with no qualms to his scrutiny. At this point, which was very early and symptom of incurable rudeness, human sorcerers would usually begin their long monologue on what they wanted from Akashi, along with the why's and the how's. Akashi was pleased to see that this human seemed polite. Maybe a bit too much, for it didn't speak up at all, not even when Akashi nodded it the permission.

This surely had to be its first summoning attempt, and it was graciously waiting for Akashi to inform it of how things worked. Well, this offered Akashi a good occasion to proceed with order.

"Your name," he demanded.

As expected, as if it had been waiting only for that, the kid replied diligently. "Kuroko Tetsuya."

"Age?"

"Six," Kuroko Tetsuya said. Akashi's gaze was attracted further down to puny fingers moving in a silent count. "And a quarter."

"I will assume you summoned me making use of the book at your feet," Akashi said. "Where did you get it?"

"My grandmother gave it to me. It belonged to her family."

"Is your grandmother a demon summoner? A witch? What is the name she's known by in her guild?"

"Kuroko Megumi." Kuroko's tone was pointlessly proud as it articulated the name, because Akashi had not heard of any notorious witch going by it. "She is a pensioner."

In the short silence that followed Akashi's attempt at placing the name somewhere, anywhere, as to explain why Kuroko Tetsuya had the resources and knowledge to summon him in the first place, Kuroko surprisingly leapt at the chance to speak first.

"Your horns—"

Akashi slanted it a heavy gaze. "Do they upset you?"

"No," Kuroko said evenly. "Are they real?"

"Obviously."

"Can I touch—"

"No," Akashi cut it off briskly. "Do you have any parents? What do they think of this book?"

The question seemed to be the right one to pose to fill in the last blanks, as Kuroko looked down, forgetting the topic of horns and trying to hide hints of guilt instead. "They didn't like some of the book's things. They said it was too gru… gruelo… gruso…"

"Gruesome," Akashi helped.

Kuroko nodded poignantly. "They said that if I want to play with magic, I should use other books. They reprimanded my grandmother because of me."

"It is comforting to learn that there is someone gifted with common sense within your family unit."

Swiftly, Kuroko got up and scampered to the tall desk, half-climbing on the chair to drag a small pile of slim but large books and carry them to Akashi's knees. The sight Akashi was served with made his speculations quite final.

"I tried these ones," Kuroko let Akashi know with a bland note of betrayal directed at the sparkling colorful books. "But nothing worked."

Akashi found himself deeply unsurprised. '_THE APPRENTICE'S MAGIC BOOK_' and '_Bewitch Your Friends with CHARMS AND SPELLS_' were not exactly renowned black magic books in the summoners' communities, nor were they in any list of common reads among actual witchcraft apprentices.

In conclusion, Akashi sighed, it was clear that it was all an ironic coincidence. This was how things probably went: a girl by a mysterious last name started following the booming trend of the summoners in Tokyo in the mid eighties of two centuries earlier, when every sorcerer was ready to sell their souls to have a demon bodyguard; was good enough to hold onto it and pass it down from generation to generation; until a lay, ignorant grandmother thought it a marvelous, completely safe idea to gift it to the grandchild for recreational purposes.

Akashi started wondering whether it should be this person which he should reproach instead of this child whose mind was clearly clouded by careless teachings.

Before he could inform a saddened Kuroko of the truth behind its ineffective magic books, a mewling noise came from the door. A big cat, with raven lucid fur and a crimson string around the neck slipped elegantly inside the room.

Akashi watched the cat calmly trot to Kuroko's leg and nuzzle it affectionately. Kuroko tried to scoop the cat up in its scrawny arms, but the cat was too big for it to do that properly, and ended up in an uncomfortable two legged position against Kuroko's chest.

"Her name is Mako," Kuroko supplied, gravely mistaking Akashi's dead silence for a spark of interest. With some wiggling, the cat managed to free herself from Kuroko's hold, and bearing no grudge she settled down beside it. Akashi was reassured to see Kuroko's patting skills were far more delicate than its lifting ones, and his instinctual urge to intervene and snatch the cat from graceless hands was quelled down in favor of another rightful reproach.

"You just summoned a demon under your roof without your parents' consent, and you didn't even lock the door to your room," Akashi said flatly.

Kuroko's petting hand halted mid-stroke.

"Oh," it mumbled. "Should have I done that?"

Akashi nodded. "It is common custom to perform demon summoning in an environment as private as possible." The muffled noises had grown stronger now that the door was ajar, and now Akashi distinguished an overlapping of chirpy human voices. "Who dwells in your living room?"

"My babysitter," Kuroko replied. "But she doesn't really pay attention to me. She watches TV a lot."

"Then let's get back to our business. Do I have to infer that your summoning was merely experimental?" Akashi contemplated the band-aid on Kuroko's finger and the complicated spell circling Akashi's position. "You appear to have invested a bit too much effort for this to be only a way to spend time."

"No," Kuroko said, with a determination that gained Akashi's full attention. "I meant to ask for a favor."

"The word favor does not exist in the language of demons," Akashi stated in a lapidary manner.

Kuroko looked at him with an uncertain tilt of its eyebrows, whose motive Akashi couldn't fathom until it said tentatively, "Favor means… that you…"

"I _know_ what favor means," Akashi stressed.

"Mh." The kid didn't seem to understand the reason behind Akashi's interruption, but Akashi did not insist on resolving the abysmal ignorance of the tiny creature, his spirit void of any hope for success just as much as when he faced Mayuzumi.

The kid had caught the hints of exasperation in his voice though, because it didn't press the matter further nor proceeded with its request. A tense silence fell again and Akashi sighed deeply, conceding out of personal curiosity, "But what could your wish be, I wonder."

Kuroko fidgeted on its knees. "There are some bullies in my school."

Ah, Akashi thought as he eyed knowingly the white patch on Kuroko's cheek, so it was revenge. Such a common emotion in humans, even in the earliest stages of a life. One of the main reasons innocent souls fell soon into darkness, for revenge often felt righteous, fair. Due. Akashi personally thought it was, so he could not blame the child. But it was definitely merry news for Akashi, as the kid might very soon be unable to summon him ever again.

"So you want to make them pay what they deserve?" Akashi asked with a mocking glint in his mismatched eyes. "Make them unable to lay a hand on you ever again?"

His figure loomed over the child's one, that shrank in his bleak shadow. Akashi's eyes glowed golden. "Do you want me to make them disappear forever?" If Akashi helped the kid, it would take one single revenge ordered on the wave of boiling frustration, carried out too thoroughly by Akashi's powers, for satisfaction or profound guilt to do their part in sealing the creature away from Akashi, their paths separating forever on a doomed note.

However, contrary to Akashi's expectations, the child's answer was initially only a dubious, demure frown.

"Can't Goat-san just… shoo them away," it said, and there was an attempt at sounding chiding and reasonable on its part. "I don't really want anyone to get hurt… Papa says it is bad to hurt people."

Akashi stared off into the creature's sky blue eyes before finding focus again. He straightened up with a look of deep disappointment.

"Firstly, I am _obviously_ not a goat. Nor these are the horns of a goat. They are the horns of a Demon King and I am Akashi Seijuurou. Address me properly."

"Akashi Seijuurou," Kuroko committed to memory in a feeble voice.

"Secondly. I can," Akashi said sternly, "But your request doesn't hold any value to me, since I gain nothing from it but a waste of my time. Ask your teachers for help. They will know what to do."

"But." Kuroko started. It didn't continue, and Akashi did not ask, because it was not his problem if this young creature didn't have enough strength to face its enemies. Another rule that did not change between reality planes: the fittest always won.

"I will take my leave now." Briskly he straightened up. Mayuzumi was probably slacking off already even if it was a busy day. This had been an interesting happening, but it was time to put an end to it.

As he flattened the creases of his yukata with the palm of his hands, he looked at Kuroko one last time. "I have to ask you not to summon me ever again."

His eyes darkened as he once again towered over Kuroko. The air rarefied, and the lights in the room dimmed grimly even though out of the now rattling windows the sun still shone brightly. "Or there will be dire consequences. It would be safer if you listen to my advice. Do you understand the implications of my words?" He murmured in a low hissing voice.

The kid looked at him with a troubled expression, as if it wanted to add something but feared it didn't have the permission to speak up. Akashi thought this was enough.

He looked at the desk. "I will also take some of your pens before going," he said, quickly going over at it and filing some stationery away in the sleeve of his yukata.

"Um," Kuroko only said in confusion.

Back to his summoning circle, Akashi dipped his hand under the surface of the water in the pink bucket and closed his eyes, preparing to transport himself back.

A long moment passed by, as absolutely nothing happened. Akashi's eyebrow twitched.

This made no sense. He could always tell if somebody summoned him or called him by a bargaining spell, and he was positive this was the first type of the deal. Reopening his eyes, he whipped his head in the child's direction.

"I can't leave," he stated, accusing. The kid still had that troubled expression. "What kind of spell did you use?"

At the lack of a satisfying answer—Kuroko only shrugged and said "A normal one?", whether in defiance or genuine unsettling proof of further ignorance and ingenuity about the entire situation Akashi couldn't say—Akashi reached his hand out.

"Hand the book over," he ordered.

Albeit with some doubts, quickly dispelled by Akashi's stern glare, Kuroko dutifully passed him the heavy black book. Now that he looked at the cover, Akashi could swear he'd seen it somewhere already, and that wherever he had seen it, it surely shouldn't have ended up here in possession of a six years old.

"Page sixty-three," Kuroko piped up, and Akashi quickly flipped through the yellowed pages. Once he found it, he was at a loss for words.

"'Spell to summon a Demon King'," Akashi read flatly. Kuroko nodded unhelpfully.

He should have been able to break this by sheer will, since it came from a creature as spiritually weak as this child. A little push should have sufficed, and yet now that he was trying, he couldn't leave his spot. He wondered if this was due to the fact that his little rule-changing trick might have made somebody's summoning strength directly proportional to the pureness of their souls. In a normal, believable setting, if the world moved by logical rules, that should mean there were basically zero chances of any human ever summoning him. He had figured that even in the case of a pure soul binding him, the fact that it was pure would imply an innate weakness that he could exploit to shake the summoner off like a leaf.

That, or the child hid an innate magic power. Considering the long row of demonic successes dotting Akashi's existence, he had a proclivity for the first option. Which made things even more problematic. Akashi was very capable at anything he did, always. This was the first time he realized he might have been slightly _too_ capable.

Kuroko stood up on its sock-clad feet. Its eyes bobbed up over the upper edge of the book while a tiny finger wiggled on the lower one, blindly pointing at one of the last lines.

"It says somewhere here that Goat-san has to do what I say if I do the spell well," it said. "Did it work?"

Akashi decided not to answer that, but address again the name issue with a dissatisfied glance and command of "_Akashi Seijuurou_", which had the wiggly finger recede and disappear. But the big blue eyes keep watching him attentively from right over the book as a soft voice dutifully repeated his name after him once again.

The spell was very complicated. Not only the process, but the reading as well—a knowledge that shouldn't belong to a six years old.

"How did you read this?" Akashi asked perplexed.

"Grandmother helped," Kuroko explained.

This grandmother seemed to be at the root of all of Akashi's current problems. However, while an adult's help in deciphering the spell made sense, it didn't explain how a six years old could manage to carry out all the steps perfectly with the needed amount of concentration. While Akashi doubted Kuroko had a good grip on the potential dangers it had put itself into by performing this ritual, it was also true that this bullying problem must have been of great worry for the child to put so much effort and dedication into the spell.

Akashi contemplated his choices again, which were now sadly reduced to a very few. Indulging the creature's wishes would come without a gain, despite that of a small vacation. Then again, Kuroko lacked in-depth knowledge on magic and seemed to be relying on Akashi for instructions on what to do with him next. This surely came in handy.

"Fine, let's assume I will help you." he said slowly, lowering the book so as to uncover Kuroko's full face. He noticed its eyes were now far more expectant and lively than they were seconds before. "You do understand you subjected yourself to a mandatory payment," Akashi lied evenly, chin high. "What I ask for, I shall take it once my job is done. There is no refusing this."

Kuroko frowned a bit. "The book didn't say that..."

"It was implied," Akashi said. "Demons do no favors. Everything has a price. It is a lesson that you should have learnt already."

Kuroko shut up. It didn't seem fond of speaking more words than the strict necessity, which Akashi could only appreciate.

Akashi pondered over the possibilities. There was no way he could be interested in such a young pure soul, as they tasted terrible and there had been weird happenings in the past from demons feeding on too innocent souls. That was alright as he definitely needed no more boost in power, and there was something else in the room that he fancied more.

"I will erase the plague of the bullies infesting your school the way you will find most fitting. In exchange, I will take possession of this book," Akashi stated clearly. There were many ways of getting rid of this kid without killing it: if he took the book away from the kid, he was certain to be freed from any future disturbance from it again. Moreover, the book had now tickled his interest quite strongly, to the point he could have almost considered all this hassle worth it.

Kuroko pouted. "But grandmo—"

"The book," Akashi repeated, unmovable. "And some of your stationery," he added as an afterthought. He was going to take full advantage of this situation. It was true that the Abyss ran scarce in functioning pens. Humans who would react with shock at his underlings' requests for useful materials were only fools who apparently expected demons to always write everything with blood.

A stiff silence fell between the two of them, until finally, "Alright," Kuroko said, extending its hand out. Akashi eyed it and decided that a bit of a show would convince Kuroko more of this predicament, so his far larger hand took Kuroko's, and when their grip tightened, he let a gratuitous tongue of flames roll languidly around their grip. Kuroko's eyes lit up in excitement.

.

* * *

**Next on My Frend the Dimon King: When they're not heroically fighting bullies, Akashi plays with Kuroko and helps him with maths. Hell snakes take over the schoolyard. The teachers panic, and the Abyss panics as well because no one knows where the fuck the Demon King went.**


	2. A Hectic Schoolday

**writing this au in akashi's pov was a terrible decision i 111% regret + NOTHING INTERESTING HAPPENS CoUgh pls forgive this chapter as a whole**

**Warning: Akashi thinks his teaching skills are far above the school's level. very unrealistic storytelling about climbing one fucking slide. its all symbolic so ssshh we all shut up**

* * *

.

Summoning circles, plus blood and water, were the irreducible elements for a demon to travel into the human realm: it could be regular circles traced by a human, or, in Akashi and few others' case, self-drawn ones—to which it was to be added, a) the peculiar feeling of choking and being squeezed through a rubber tube too narrow for any breathing being b) mild toothache; the knowledge that such a degrading feeling represented the only exit, had demons grit their teeth so hard in hurt pride and annoyance, the teeth would keep throbbing for a while even after the short trip's end. The obvious pro of the procedure: freedom, or the closest thing to it they could grasp. Which was something very few demons could boast. But they still aggressively grit their teeth in annoyance anyway.

Going back though, was a far simpler process, in a way: all that was required was a quick formula recited by the summoner that would unbind the demon, or the summoner's death. Delivered one of those, circles, blood and water were just a matter of making the trip back smoother or not. After a certain amount of time without a summoner's magic sustaining their sojourn in the human world, all demons, even the ones that came on their own volition, were inevitably sucked back into the Abyss. One way or another. Where 'one way' meant a nice, comfortable one, and 'another' meant… well.

True to its age, Kuroko had used quite the unrefined method to summon him—a circle drawn on a collage of scotch-taped papers wasn't something Akashi saw often in this field—but it surely was a practical one when it came to its removal. Now that he was there, the circle wouldn't be mandatory anymore since he could trace one himself. So after having sealed their specious contract and cleared a few important details about his nature, what Akashi did first was to retrieve the papers from the floor, crumble them into a tight ball and turn them to ashes. The last thing he wanted was for Kuroko to hold a copy of any part of the spell, once the book wouldn't be in its possession anymore.

Knowing better than to show any disgruntlement over the thin layer of ashes floating on the water surface, Kuroko clumsily dragged the bucket to the bathroom. Akashi on the other hand, not feeling any urge to offer help, busied himself with a quiet tour of the house. It took less than he thought it would, with merely two bedrooms to explore and only the necessary space to move between chambers; and he found it homely, rather decent, clean enough—not to his taste, but not unpleasant either. A lot of things about Kuroko seemed to fall under that category.

Then he stepped into the living room, and took in the slouched form of the babysitter sprawled on the couch, bathing in the vivid lights of the television. When the sloshing noises in the bathroom were followed by a loud thump, the babysitter tore her attention from the screen and turned to Akashi; then, stared right past him.

"Tetsuya-chan? Is everything alright?" she called, without moving a muscle.

A faint 'yes' came in response, and that was enough reassurance for the human.

"Are you ready? We almost have to go."

Finally, Kuroko came out of the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind its back. "I am," it said, gaze darting between Akashi and the babysitter as if it expected Akashi's words about his invisibility to be proven wrong at any moment. But the babysitter only stood up and walked past Akashi to fetch the purse on the kitchen table, and Kuroko's exhale of disappointment went mostly unnoticed.

They soon left the house to venture in the school's direction, and now Akashi, who had preceded his summoner of a few minutes, stood on the edge of the building's roof, the wide school yard stretching below his feet and swarming with rambunctious herds of children, some hand in hand with their guardians, some left scampering on their own in unwarranted excitement. It would have quite the sickening show of chaos for many, but Akashi took pride in his ability to maintain an iron calm. Nebuya would have probably punched some unlucky ones into the ground by then. No solid predictions on what Hayama would have done instead, because Hayama resembled an hyperactive child more than any other of Akashi's acquaintances—a useful exercise for Akashi's patience, he had been; but in his defense, Hayama also very well knew how to follow orders. Who knew instead what kind of rebellious acts children could cook up in their still undeveloped minds.

The school bell rang as Akashi saw Kuroko Tetsuya leave its babysitter's hand at the school gates. In the beat of an eye, he was beside the kid.

"I have perceived a few negative vibrations among your schoolmates," Akashi announced as they walked side by side towards the entrance. "Probably your persecutors."

No reply came. While peering expectantly around the rowdy main hall, Kuroko looked more like a kid than he had ever looked since that morning.

"It would be counterproductive to have the entire school see me, now, wouldn't it?" Akashi commented knowingly. Kuroko started in surprise, before embarrassment made it look away. "Fret not, people will be able to, once I deem it due."

The hallways were slowly clearing out from the loud mass. No one stopped to greet the kid then, nor when they finally entered Kuroko's classroom.

"How do you plan to proceed?'" Akashi asked, practical.

Kuroko's small fists ran along the straps of its backpack, and that was the only sign of tension from the boy. "I have class in the morning until lunch. After eating, we spend half an hour in the school yard for the break. That's usually when my schoolmates…"

Akashi nodded as Kuroko quietly sat at a desk by the window and neatly set its items out. Around them, the other kids kept chatting loudly to fill the teacher's absence.

"We'll see to that."

.

It wasn't exactly boring. He spent his hours perched on the window sill, reading in the sunrays a book he had taken from a shelf in Kuroko's parents' bedroom, and he almost dared define his new circumstances as _relaxing_. Since relaxing never had been a prioritized activity, he felt vaguely perplexed by the unfamiliar feeling. But the weather: that, he knew he enjoyed. Demons spent so much of their lives in the sourceless lighting of the Abyss, that they often forgot it was factitious in the first place. But when visiting above, anyone's skin would prickle with the nostalgic warmth of the sunlight. With the exception of the Nightly demons, maybe: they often tended to catch fire in a rather flamboyant way, if they were exposed for too long to a clear daylight.

Beside him, following the lessons as they went by, Kuroko stayed very quiet. Sometimes Akashi would notice it shift in the seat and rest its cheek on a propped up hand, and minutes later, when Akashi would glance sideways again, there Kuroko was, dozing off with a drooling mouth with such a tranquil expression that it made sleeping look like what it was exactly supposed to be doing. The teacher caught it in the act once, which made Kuroko straighten in humble attention only for a while before its focus drifted away again. But oddly enough, it went unobserved for the majority of it. It was a very unobtrusive kid.

That calmness, though, was lost during math lesson.

Inside the class, surrounded by other children, Kuroko's proclivity for inexpressiveness was far more noticeable than it had been in Kuroko's bedroom. But it wasn't that Kuroko was inexpressive: all of its expressions were just greatly diluted into an apparent passivity that made it harder to read than the average kid.

Fortunately—or not—between being provided with above average observational skills and having spent enough time alongside Mayuzumi's well-trained apathy, Akashi's attempts at deciphering Kuroko's emotions had been more or less fruitful since the very start. Consequently, Akashi easily noticed the change as Kuroko, who had already looked uncomfortable since the beginning of the lesson, started to squirm in its seat almost imperceptibly when the teacher announced a test in later days. Akashi ignored it, leaving it to its throes until his gaze slipped a moment too long on the kid's exercise sheet.

"Number five is wrong," he chimed in peremptorily.

Kuroko had looked up in bafflement, then shame; then it let out a low, haunted, "Why…" and it seemed to fight the impulse to let its head drop to the hard desk and leave it there for the rest of the class.

Akashi explained why, despite the fact that explaining something so basic was ridiculous to him; at least Kuroko soon found peace again and stopped fidgeting in Akashi's peripheral vision.

The lesson after that—the last one before lunch, according to Kuroko—took a lesser toll on the kid. Possibly too little actually, Akashi thought when the teacher happily ended it earlier, with the excuse of optimal students' behavior, and handed around photocopies to color.

"Is this how children should spend their Japanese language class?" Akashi asked staring down at the minimalistic silhouette of a toucan perched on a branch under a disproportioned sun.

Kuroko examined the available colors in the crayons' case and, to Akashi's dismay, it went for an unsightly angry purple that did nothing to match a toucan's reality. "It's fun to do, after all those kanji."

"Not very educational, though." But with a last judging glance at the kids' papers, he left the matter at that and went back to the book, holding only a bland interest in fighting the flawed teaching system of the school. The classroom was now quieter without the teacher's lecture, and in its stead a soft chattering of young voices had risen. But after a while, Kuroko spoke up again.

"If Goat-san is a king, does it mean you live in a palace?"

Akashi stopped reading. Sensing that question to be the start of a long, investigative third degree, he wisely shut the book. He couldn't blame the kid for choosing that moment to let curiosity take the lead, considering the task it was put up to.

"I will not answer questions not addressed to me," he said, calmly enough; miasma threatening to bleed nervously out of his face notwithstanding.

"What does Akashi-san's home look like," Kuroko rephrased obediently, and if Akashi hadn't known better, he would have guessed Kuroko's tone was condescending.

Akashi quelled the new flames itching under his skin and explained, "My headquarters are as big as a palace, but it's not a home. Nothing in the Abyss is meant to be one."

"Is the 'Abyss' an ugly place?"

The Abyss was a dimension rather difficult to describe—even more to a young human mind, used to the fixed state of their world's reality. It was dark and versatile, so Akashi chose his words carefully. "It is quite unpleasant by multiple standards. To simplify it, you could say it mirrors this world: there are many buildings, cities even, and wastelands, but it's all lifeless and in ruins. There's no sun but a pitch black ocean, and massive pillars rise up and disappear into it."

"What's up in the sky-ocean then?" Kuroko asked, and what followed was one of those rare times Akashi didn't have an answer ready on his tongue.

Slowly, he stated, "Our birthplace."

Kuroko didn't mind the vague reply, diligently coloring and already proceeding further with, "If it's in ruins, then what is there to do?"

Akashi hummed. "Read. Rule and keep things organized. Discover attempts at eliminating me." His fingers went to caress his chin contemplatively. "Chess is also interesting, when the opponent is myself."

"I read too," Kuroko nodded, maybe in search of a connective element that Akashi didn't particularly want to explore, "but I like drawing more."

Akashi's eyes trailed down. "If you do, then you surely know that you must color your drawings _inside_ the lines. Also, the average toucan is black and white."

Kuroko followed, examining the drawing with perplexity. "Isn't this a parrot?"

"A toucan. Stay inside the lines," Akashi reiterated, but Kuroko, despite the increase in attention, kept sending lines out of the toucan and into the forest of theoretically _green_ lianas behind it.

"Like this?"

"_Insi_—Give me the crayon," Akashi ordered abruptly, unable to stand further this gratuitous show of incompetence. He came off his perch, and willingly enough Kuroko complied. He bent to the table, and proceeded to show the child how to draw properly. However, when he checked if Kuroko was following his skillful work, Kuroko was instead resting a cheek on its fist once again and staring unabashedly at Akashi's horns.

"Goat-san's horns are really big."

This time, Akashi locked gazes with it.

This was fine. If the kid wanted to play a game of power, Akashi would give it. Kuroko might have had Akashi under a summoning spell, but this didn't mean Akashi would bend to degrading nicknames. He let his silence speak for him.

Despite the soft sigh Kuroko dared heave then, its gaze wavered off pleasantly towards the pencil case, and rummaged in it to take out a new color—a grotesque bright pink. This kid had no sense for aesthetics either. "Don't they weigh Akashi-san's head down?"

"Their weight is fine," Akashi graciously conceded at last.

"Can I touch—"

"I will have you know that I do _not_ like to repeat myself."

"Do all demons have horns?" The kid didn't relent despite its laconic attitude.

"Yes. However," Akashi replied, "my horns are different from theirs. To become the Demon King, you have to eat the previous one. That way, the horns grow and change shape, so that everyone can recognize the Demon King by sight."

At that, Kuroko fell quiet. Its eyes were still brimming with barely concealed curiosity, and its lips were quirking with the desire to speak. But since it didn't and instead went back to coloring along with him—its hand on the paper so tiny, it didn't hinder Akashi's own moving about—Akashi surmised the kid had spoken too much for its standards and had to recharge its energies.

It took indeed some minutes of comfortable silence before Kuroko asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "…Did Akashi-san really eat a demon?"

"I've eaten many."

"Ew," Kuroko replied meaningfully. Once again, its interest in the drawing inevitably waned. "What do they taste like?"

"Not particularly flavorful," Akashi said. In the corner of his eye, the teacher was nearing Kuroko's desk. He set the crayon down. "But we don't eat for taste."

It was that action that sprang a reaction of befuddlement in Kuroko, who in realization looked repeatedly between him and his hand, then asked, "If you're invisible, won't the crayon look like it's moving alone?"

"Demons are gifted with the power to blend into society unseen, since we're not supposed to be here," Akashi said, satisfied that Kuroko had noticed such a detail, "which means we also have magic to interact with things without people noticing. The objects we handle don't become invisible, nor are we strictly."

Kuroko's expression suggested a lack of understanding, so he continued, "Think of it as a magic trick. The crayon is there, but we misdirect the attention from it, so humans don't realize there's a crayon there at all. However, this trick works properly only with normal people. You can see me despite that only because you're the one who summoned me, and because I take you're the only one here with an active interest in black magic. After all, it takes only a mere level of experience in sorcery to be immune to it. Unless one meets Mayuzumi."

Kuroko's mouth fell open surely for another prodding, but the teacher interrupted them with a gentle touch on the shoulder and a greeting. But the polite exchange was cut short when the teacher picked up Kuroko's paper with genuine surprise etched on her candid features.

"This," she spoke, "this is actually very good, Tetsuya-kun."

"This," Akashi agreed.

"Thank you," Kuroko replied. "Akashi-san did it."

Both Akashi and the teacher were taken aback. The fact that Kuroko wouldn't take the credit not even for a mere drawing spoke volumes of the reason why Akashi was stuck in such a predicament.

The teacher expertly covered her confusion with an inquiring smile. "Akashi-san?"

"Yes. He is the Demon King."

"Oh," she nodded more firmly, definitely getting the wrong gist of the situation, "that was very nice of him then."

More than nice, which was not contemplated often in Akashi's actions, it had been unavoidable, as Kuroko had been doing no more than disfiguring an innocent paper with poor coloring skills. Kuroko was an observant kid, and watching Akashi do correctly certainly had been more profitable than simply failing. Akashi expected a minimal percentage of improvement by the next time, and for that he fully realized he had done a teacher's job better than the teacher herself.

"Is Akashi-san a new friend of yours?" the teacher asked, giving the unfinished paper back to Kuroko.

"We have just signed a contract. Because he is the Demon King, he will be my bodyguard," Kuroko said professionally. Akashi was glad not to have been defined a friend. Not that the child's feelings and possible delusions would complicate his duties concretely, but the mere word wrongly associated with such a weak creature nauseated him. On second thoughts, it nauseated him in general as well.

"Well, I hope you become friends." The teacher seemed set on wanting to stick a different label to them. But it was not her words that caught Akashi's attention, as much as the sad smile that she delivered to Kuroko at the mention of a bodyguard. Akashi watched with dispassion the teacher rest a pat on Kuroko's head and walk away to lie compliments at the next student in the row.

Kuroko picked up the crayon and Akashi would have let it be, had the kid not fallen into a demure silence, far too absorbed in its work. That new attitude felt surprisingly irksome to Akashi.

"You have no 'friends'," he stated.

With only its eyes speaking more than any of its facial features, it was hard to gather whether Kuroko was simply shaken or downright offended by his remark.

"I do talk with my classmates sometimes," the kid said. Neither of them was convinced.

There was no mistaking now the lingering air of sadness, and the invisible barrier standing between Kuroko's desk and the others'. Akashi didn't care about the reasons, but he had spent the entire morning imparting lessons and up to now, they had all met a certain degree of success. So one more advice sounded only appropriate.

"That's not a bad thing. You shouldn't worry yourself with such concepts," he said, taking up a yellow crayon. "Things such as friends are of no use."

It was no wonder that Kuroko tilted its head in confusion, as if it was its first time hearing such a theory. Who knew which ideas the kid's mind had been filled with since its birth.

"Take your situation, for example: friends probably wouldn't have been useful to solve it and you had to resort to me. While I am displeased by being here, yours was clever thinking. Providing yourself with mighty partners, or underlings, is one way to grasp power over others."

"Underlings?"

"Subordinates," Akashi rectified, to which Kuroko hummed.

"Servants," he said reproachfully, and finally there was a spark of role recognition as Kuroko's lips bent in an 'o'. "You should also read more books. You suffer from a despicable lack of vocabulary."

"Do you have many?" Kuroko said, with the same awe it had watched Akashi's flame signing their contract.

"I have four high ranked servants always close to me, taking care of most jobs and that I can trust not to disappoint me, within limits."

"Are they nice?"

Akashi's mind rapidly revisited his memories from the last century.

"That is not the proper word to define them," he said firmly.

A pleasant lull slipped into their conversation, as Akashi waited for his advice to sink into Kuroko's mind and find roots.

"So servants are as good as friends," Kuroko tried tentatively.

"Better, without a doubt," Akashi confirmed with finality. Putting the crayon down, he drummed the tips of his fingers on the finished drawing, then pushed it towards Kuroko. "And you might have no friends, but you do have the best colored drawing in the entire class. Success too, is more valuable than friends."

It was the first smile, however small, that Akashi saw grace Kuroko's face.

.

Lunch break turned the school into what could have easily passed as a branch of the Abyss. The kids were loud and obnoxious, no real discipline in their actions, and teachers didn't do much to quell that hell. But Akashi had never been one to condemn rowdiness in itself when it didn't hinder his objectives, so he observed the scene unfazed, as he stood in the line of the food beside Kuroko.

"Enlighten me on the topic of bullies," Akashi said when they found a place to one of the emptier tables. A loud tapping of shoes burst from the tiled floor, and he halted just in time for his clothes to avoid the graze of a tiny wild student running by. "Why haven't you asked for help from your teachers? It's their jobs to keep their students safe."

"I did, at first. But then they started threatening to hit some girls."

"A decent plan," Akashi commended. "It works with some humans."

"So I didn't say anything anymore. When something bruises, I say I fell. It is usually accidents, anyway."

Akashi paused, turning with a disgusted face. "Kids should care less about others. Why did you sacrifice yourself for the sake of some girl you might not even know?"

There it was again, the awkward fidgeting and the restless hands. "I didn't want people to get hurt…"

"Very heroic," Akashi commented sardonically. "So young and already destined to a premature death."

Then again, the kid had meddled with black magic to solve the problem for the entire school once and for all. At least, it seemed that its streak of masochism was aimed only at a temporary suffering, while busy finding a wider solution to the problem.

"You can have my yoghurt, Akashi-san," Kuroko said softly. "What does premature mean?"

Akashi took the yoghurt and lapped at a spoonful. It didn't taste so bad. Nothing compared to demon flesh, though.

.

For some ironic reason, the bullies appeared to have taken a day off from their job: Kuroko had sat in his usual spot, and they had settled for the opposite side of the backyard, too engrossed in a jumping game of sorts to pay attention to kids out of their group, for once. This hadn't deterred Kuroko's resolution in tackling the issue down as soon as possible. After ten minutes of waiting and nervously plucking stems off the ground, Kuroko had stood up and asked, "Should we go to them?"

Lying in his comfortable spot against a tree trunk, Akashi kept watching the target. "In this situation, it would be wise to attack while they feel safe, to display our superiority and to avoid any waste of time."

Kuroko had nodded as if he had been thinking exactly the same, and declared, "Let's attack."

It had been a poignant thirty meters walk—but despite the confident strides, Kuroko had progressively advanced closer and closer to Akashi's side, to the point Akashi had momentarily feared that the thing would cling to his leg. Kuroko thankfully hadn't, and now here it was, standing in front of four kids who conceded it only a few seconds of confusion before starting to sneer. Their remarks were weak and unintelligent, but Akashi kept himself from scoffing at the pathetic taunting as Kuroko straightened up in its less than a meter glory and spoke, "I wish you stopped bullying the students."

It had come out subdued hushed unlike Akashi had foreseen, given the power pose Kuroko had assumed. So he could only wonder whether the bully's reply—"What did you say, ghost-face?"—was supposed to be snide or an actual question.

Probably unsure about the same thing, Kuroko hesitated. "I wish you stopped bullying me," it repeated in a louder voice.

Now the bullies didn't hold back their snickers. "Why though…" The one who must have identified himself as leader said, faking nonchalance. "It's always fun to do that. And we need your lunch money. Why should we stop? It's not like ghosts need to eat, right? Am I right?"

They hadn't rehearsed the part, nor had agreed on a specific moment for Akashi to step in. But Kuroko was frowning, weakly fidgeting on its feet and at a loss for words, all the courage it had seemed to carry in the early morning gone; and Akashi—he had a penchant for making grand entrances. So without further questioning, he cleared himself of the invisibility spell.

"You should stop, because otherwise, quite the terrible happenings are going to befall you all."

It couldn't take that much to scare a kid. Nonetheless, it wasn't in Akashi's character to do things half-heartedly, so he watched those faces morph into masks of fear when he appeared, with flames coiling around his shoulders and dark lines rising along his neck. He had hoped the kids wouldn't scream for help, and by the looks of it he had managed to not let that happen any time soon, as they had all opted to instantaneously break into whimpers.

"I will have you know," Akashi said, each murmur lingering into the thick, heavy air between them, "that Kuroko Tetsuya, and everyone in this school is under my jurisdiction from now on. Which me—"

"Juristion…?" Kuroko whispered worriedly beside him.

"Tutelage," Akashi corrected towards the crowd.

Kuroko's lips tightened dubiously while some eyebrows now tilted more in confusion than despair.

"_Protection_."

There was understanding, at last; along with a deplorable chorus of 'oh!'s that grated at Akashi's ears like a personal offense. His tongue clicked loudly as he sucked some more light out of the sky to restore a semblance of atmosphere, and the color once again promptly drained from the kids' faces.

"You won't see me." Bending down to their level, Akashi dropped his voice to an almost guttural noise, "But know, that I will be _always _right beside him. If you dare lay a finger on him or anyone else, during your short, pitiful school life…" The boy flinched away when his blackening finger almost caressed its cheek. Akashi's upper lip curled up. "I'll be there, to give back a thousand times what you did. Each wound and unkind word, I will all mark them onto your bodies. And—"

He was stopped short by a pull at his sleeve.

"What," he bit back, turning around abruptly towards the culprit.

"You're kind of scary," Kuroko admitted, almost flinching away from him but not quite.

Akashi felt a reflexive twitch at the corners of his mouth. "Isn't it the whole point of me being here."

"Yes, but." Kuroko side-eyed its schoolmates with something akin to apprehension, whereas Akashi saw nothing but a positive outcome. The kids were undoubtedly terrified, so much that they weren't even in the right mind to take advantage of the distraction to run away. At the front of one's pants, a damp smear was growing dark on the thin fabric. Ironically, the leader was the one closest to panicked tears. How shameful.

"You can send them away now."

About to retort against the suggestion, Akashi stilled instead, minding his greater plans. Taking the book should have been enough, but it didn't hurt to try and convince Kuroko of finer ways of dealing with the challenges of life.

"But they hurt you," he said. "You should hurt them back."

Thrown off by the remark, Kuroko was speechless for an instant. However, it was clear that it didn't share the sentiment when he glanced away, cornered. "...Hurting people makes me uncomfortable."

Crouching down to its side, Akashi offered, "But I'd be the one doing it. I'll follow whatever order you will give me."

But while that would have been entertaining and most effective—humans craved for excuses to blame misdeeds on others to banish the guilt eating them away—there was something else Akashi was curious to witness. His eyebrow quirked up, and he showed his set of sharp teeth in a rare smile; edged and thin, not one of his most welcoming. "Although, if you were truly brave, you would do it yourself."

Something shifted in Kuroko's stare as it pinned the kids down, roaming over those unsettled muzzles and mulling scenarios over, then backing away. But the spark was there to be inflated; Akashi wanted to see it glimmer brighter with desire. So he leant in, lips a breath away from the shell of Kuroko's ear, and his whispers tickled the strands of pale hair.

"They taunted you, called you a ghost. They even hurt others because of you, how despicable. Don't tell me you haven't dreamt of returning all the wrongs they did, with your own hands." With half-lidded eyes, he watched Kuroko's lips twitching, troubled. "If you don't learn how to stop them, people around you will keep getting hurt. Had I not been here, what would you have done… You can show me."

Akashi straightened up, gaze glaring golden and teeth itching, while Kuroko took slow steps towards the leader of the kids and took a stance before them. Such long moments passed with nothing happening, that Akashi would have thought the day's rolling film had gotten stuck onto a single frame. But the end of the chase always lasted longer than the chase itself; no rush cloud ruin the climax. Revenge was meant to be savored.

Abruptly, Kuroko's foot sped forward. A kick in the shin—a torpid one even, holding no deep malicious intent in the rounded tip of the shoe—and the victim emitted only one muffled grunt, far closer to one of surprise than pain.

"I'm sorry," Kuroko blurted out immediately, ruining its punishing demeanor, which was already dismally rarefied. "But I'm not a ghost. Please don't hurt other people either. This is all for now." And with a tiny bow of the head, it turned around, with a relieved sigh and an attitude that suggested it had no intention to look back again. Out of confidence or just nerves, Akashi couldn't tell.

"Is that it," Akashi had to ask.

"Yes."

"That is not what I meant," he said firmly.

Kuroko looked up with a mildly saddened look that Akashi suspected had to be the result of harsh training. "Can't we just go play?"

A demanding silence stretching between them and the almost forgotten bunch as they stared fixedly at each other. But Kuroko stood its ground, more bold now than when it had been when it would have mattered. And Kuroko's wish was a summoner's wish; so Akashi significantly shut his eyes.

The outcome had not been what he had counted on; the issue remained solved with the payment of the book, but not as thoroughly as Akashi would have liked. It was not a matter of miscalculation on his part obviously: as he had already gathered, the kid was an exceptional and unfathomable case of stubborn Samaritan, and he had given it a push more for the sake of assessing its gravity than for certain results. Nonetheless, he could not wrap his head around the unnecessary extent of Kuroko's goodness.

There was a rare type of seals known by white magic users, created to fend off evil spirits from temples and sacred places. He had never heard of such seals being used on anything other than buildings or geographical areas, but the unnaturalness of this whole ordeal made him wonder if Kuroko was hiding some secret under its clothes.

Had he had more time in Kuroko's company at his disposal, he would have looked more into the matter; but as of now, this would have to do.

He exhaled heavily through his nose in grave disappointment, neglecting Kuroko's befuddlement, and slipped his hands into the haori's sleeves. "Fine. If that is what you want." The sunlight was now shining almost fastidiously bright on the pale skin of the kids when he watched them one last time, analyzing the results. Perhaps it had been indeed enough.

"Scatter now."

That was all it took, for the bullies to finally burst into loud tears and frantically speed away, no concern shown to the slower among them, falling behind in their crazy run and begging to be waited.

"I believe that was effective," Akashi announced. "Now we wait, to see if they come back with stronger allies, or look for help from in the higher ranks."

"Meanwhile we could play," Kuroko offered lightly again. It suddenly looked thrived, a new peacefulness showing in its softened eyes and a barely hinted smile, as if the bullying had already been left behind as a mere token of the past—how the pretense of a kick in the shin could have had such effects was inexplicable. Kuroko almost skipped a step or two in the direction from where they had come from, before it relented, only to reach out to Akashi, the tiny open hand silently asking for his. Akashi refused to touch it, but that didn't seem to deter Kuroko's airy mood in the least.

.

Kuroko's concept of recreational time came out to be the dull reenactment of apocalyptic dangers in the propinquity of an empty

slide in the back of the schoolyard. If Akashi had felt a pronounced sense of disinterest before, now the temptation to walk away from the top of the slide and never look back was stronger than ever. The knowledge that he wouldn't have been able to, had Kuroko spoken a direct order, didn't help his mood.

"Lava is all over here," Kuroko had explained, gesturing at the entire yard, "I climb the slide and you stay at the top to save me from falling."

"I understand the dynamics," Akashi had said, knelt respectably on the slide's platform, "although I fail to understand the appeal of the game itself."

Kuroko had squinted at him. "Have you ever played this?

"Clearly not."

"Me neither, but I've seen other kids play it." Kuroko had shrugged. "It looked fun."

There wasn't much of a choice other than give the game a try. But after some minutes of slow, dramatic climbing up the tall iron slide and Kuroko tonelessly speaking out about the sea of lava rising in level, Akashi's obvious lack of participation became apparently too great a problem to ignore.

"You are supposed to use your imagination," Kuroko murmured with a pout.

"Imagination does not create enough thrill nor challenge for this to be even deemed a game," Akashi said frankly.

Sighing dejectedly, Kuroko slid down to the base once again because Akashi hadn't caught its outstretched arm in time. "I just want to play something together…"

If there was one thing Akashi had quickly grown intolerant towards, was Kuroko's shows of discomfort. Not that he felt any empathy, but he couldn't stand the silently squirming or dispirited creature looming anywhere in his field of vision. But while he stared, unimpressed, at the kid digging the soil with the sole of its shoe, a brilliant idea caught him.

"No," he said, "we can continue. As long as there's a change of method. First, take your shoes off, they ease your ascent too much."

Kuroko's eyebrows rose quizzically as Akashi splayed the palm of his right hand on the wooden platform of the slide, but quickly followed his order. In less than a second, it stood on sock-clad feet on the lower iron edge—just in time to avoid the low grumbling rising under them. Kuroko looked around alarmed as clumps of soil shook and fell, rolling down into quickly opening holes. A cacophony of hisses reverberated around them, and suddenly snakes sprouted like grass from the ground, sickly pale colors and thick bodies coiling out of the earth.

"What are those?" Kuroko asked, sounding now more eager to stand on higher grounds, as the newcomers gradually surrounded the slide.

"Demon snakes," was Akashi's proud introduction. "Once we resume the game, it will be them waiting for you at the base."

"This looks somehow very dangerous," Kuroko objected as it looked right into the red sodden eyes of one of the snakes, who perked their snouts up in sudden interest.

Akashi waved off its worries with a flick of his fingers. "They're under my control, they won't kill you or hurt you unnecessarily."

"Unnecessarily?" Kuroko asked blankly.

"However," Akashi continued, "the threat they represent should suffice to boost your determination."

Surely Kuroko's attempts at climbing did improve after that. Multiple times it got close to reaching the top where Akashi waited for him, before its feet would slip down towards the snakes again. Whenever Kuroko would mutely extend a grabby hand towards Akashi, he ignored it just like the previous times. The child could very well walk up some more than that.

"They're getting really close," Kuroko said glancing under its arm at the snakes slowly sliding their heavy bodies up the slide.

"Then hurry up," Akashi retorted. However, it was becoming obvious that Kuroko's limbs were reaching their limit. The tiny fingers holding onto the sides were getting pinker and laxer. They had been at it quite a while now, he assumed.

"I don't think I can do this," Kuroko confessed guiltily.

"It's only a little more," Akashi pointed out. "It would be disappointing if you gave up so close to the finish line."

Akashi thought that for the first time since they had met, Kuroko had just openly frowned at him, nor in fear but anger, of all things, as if Kuroko was the disappointed one; and he discovered that it gave Kuroko's eyes a pretty tilt. It would have surprised him more, hadn't it been for the briefest of moments, before he understood the air of determination settling on Kuroko's face as the snake's mouth drew close to its feet. Despite the tremor in its legs pressing against the wooden sides of the slide, Kuroko struggled to reach up a little more. Then it happened, and Akashi couldn't be sure if it had been deliberate or just a slip, but one of Kuroko's feet landed on the snake's head, which snapped up in outrage, thrusting the kid forward in its clumsy jump.

This time, Akashi promptly took its arms.

"Good job," Akashi commended, helping a stumbling Kuroko up on the platform with him, the snake's mouth snapping on emptiness.

Inhaling deep, soothing breaths, Kuroko turned around to face the tall slide it had successfully overcome. "It was kind of fun," it commented with fatigue, and plopped down unceremoniously onto Akashi's legs. He was about to push it off, when the sound of Kuroko's fast heartbeat sank into his chest and fingertips.

"Snakes are always a pleasant addition," Akashi agreed, letting Kuroko's wrist go, and for some seconds they shared a moment of tranquility, watching the carpet of beautiful snakes twisting and hissing at the world.

But their peace was soon disrupted.

"Tetsuya-kun, there you are!" a voice called, and both Akashi and Kuroko turned to the woman walking up to their station. "You know you can't be here alone, you have to stay with the other children in the front! Also, Yamazaki-kun told us you were with—"

The woman halted mid-step. It was almost comical, the way her eyes shot wide open at the tangled mess of massive, white snakes wriggling around. A thrilling scream came out of her mouth as she instinctively broke into a fast retreat—but then her teaching spirit came back to her, Kuroko once again on her mind, and after a moment of struggle, she sprinted forward to the platform's stairs.

"Tetsuya-kun, come down quick!" she screamed, beckoning Kuroko into her arms.

Kuroko must have never seen its teacher so agitated, or maybe snakes just didn't seem that big of a deal anymore, because it tried to calm her down with an ineffective, "They're nice snakes, Sensei. I think."

"I said come down now!"

At the order, Kuroko obediently gave up and reached her. She swept Kuroko off its feet and broke into a crazy run, leaving Akashi behind on the slide.

"Alright, five minutes and I'm sending you back," Akashi conceded to the snakes, which lazily slid off to the warm ground and flipped their long bellies to the sun.

.

The siren lights of the police car blared red in intermittence as Akashi looked down from the second floor window of the school to the yard void of kids. All the students had been brought inside to proceed safely to the end of the school day, while some men in green overalls roamed around, hastily followed by a teacher who kept scurrying back inside the school and forth. During the afternoon hours and in-between breaks, small groups of kids had returned to alternate around Kuroko, asking raptly for detailed descriptions of the snakes only it had witnessed. Contrary to the teaching corpus, the children had shown a feverish excitement towards the news of a possible infestation of snakes in the school grounds, and hence the disruption of their dull daily routine. One thing Akashi couldn't blame children for surely was their rightful enthusiasm for wonderful creatures.

Now that the day was at last reaching its end though, the last classmates were scattering away, leaving Kuroko behind to prepare for their leave. The first parents were slowly entering the gates of the school, promptly growing agitated by the presence of the disinfestations trucks in the yard.

"So, no bullies will come at you again," Akashi looked away from the window and towards Kuroko, who appeared more than ready to go home. While it had expressed a general appreciation for the day's happenings, Kuroko was obviously quite tired now. All the attention it had received since lunch break had finally exhausted it to the core; its movements were sluggish and sporadic as it packed the school bag, it reminded Akashi of a flickering flashlight with a dying battery. "With this, our deal ends. We'll go back to your house, and I will take what's mine. You will not call me ever again."

Its ministrations stopped. The light in Kuroko's eyes was disturbingly rekindled. "But…"

If looks could kill, Kuroko wouldn't even have retained a human form. Akashi's headache was accepting no buts, nor was his patience.

"You could stay longer," Kuroko said in a subdued voice.

Akashi tilted his head lightly, perhaps a little murderously. "I have no interest in that."

"Do you want to visit the town? You said you had to get some presents to bring back home."

"Not presents. Resources," Akashi specified, not elaborating further.

Kuroko scratched its cheek, thoughtful. "My grandmother would like to meet you, probably."

"I am the King of all demons," Akashi interrupted the kid curtly before it could propose any other folly. "I'm sure you realize I have important duties to attend as to not let my kingdom fall into chaos."

Guilt had proven to be without doubt the most effective stratagem to make Kuroko withdraw in its steps. But there was obviously something else lingering in Kuroko's mind, and indeed Akashi was expecting its next words of, "What if my schoolmates come back?"

"You're not afraid of that," Akashi answered. The lack of retort was what forced Akashi to let out the sigh he felt he had been holding the entire day. But their encounter was rapidly spiraling towards its end, so Akashi found himself in an indulgent mood.

"Confiding on somebody else's strength forever is an incredible show of weakness. I helped you today, but obstacles will keep coming at you all your life, and you will have to deal with them yourself."

All his attention was once again on Kuroko's face, the wavering emotion in the set of its jaw and the lines of its brows. Kuroko could order him to stay at any moment, and he would have to—until the strength of the spell wore off, but who knew how long that could take. That threat was a bit maddening, a bit thrilling, as he tiptoed around reassuring and tearing down.

"If they come back? Face them. If they're weak, fight them physically. If they fight better, beat them with your mind. If they're more clever, you can always break them," Akashi bent down to poke Kuroko's chest with a finger. "Here."

"What if I cannot?"

"Ifs happen when you let them happen," he said, stern. "However, you managed to summon the Demon King. You surely can take care of more than you seem to think."

Akashi didn't live off lies, but he was well acquainted with manipulating conversations for his purposes, and never regretful. Some of what he had said that day, he had said with the intent to stray Kuroko in the direction he had desired. But he was surprised when it occurred to him that now he was being honest. Nonetheless, while Kuroko nodded quietly, wide blue eyes boring bravely into his, Akashi felt he was neglecting something relevant in the picture.

"It was fun while it lasted, Kuroko Tetsuya," he said, trying not to think of unessential details, and straightened up. He couldn't wait to have a conversation with people his height.

When Kuroko walked out of the classroom with Akashi in tow, it didn't notice the four bullies from that afternoon huddled together in the corner of the hallway, a wide range of emotions in their embittered gazes observing Kuroko likes vultures.

However, Akashi did, and just like that his invisibility slipped off his head, shoulders—horns. Truly a few seconds, just enough to confirm the spark of fear in their eyes, enough to let them see him instead of Kuroko's defenseless back.

'Always,' he mouthed, with a cruel glint in his wide, burning gaze.

The kids ran away for good, faster than they would ever run again in their lives.

.

* * *

**Next on My Frend the Dimon King: Akashi goes back thinking he won this battle; but as he deals with some mess in the Abyss, the human kid reaches beyond his expectations again and again and aThen, somewhere between school tests and shop robberies, Mayuzumi and Nebuya meet Kuroko and it's really awkward for everyone.**


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